


Imbolc

by Vesperchan



Series: Tumblr Shorts [13]
Category: Naruto
Genre: AU, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Happy Ending, Multi, Sakura is based off of the goddess Brigid, a triple goddess, boys learn to share, fairytale, from Irish mythology, needs three husbands, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-25 05:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20371441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vesperchan/pseuds/Vesperchan
Summary: One goddess with three aspects means one husband won't be enough to secure a pact for peace, so the goddess of poetry, spring, and metal forging is offered three different Uchiha to try and satisfy her.





	Imbolc

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moor/gifts).

She broke the night's silence with the clashing of metal on metal. The fire was hot and glowing an angry red behind her as she brought the hammer back down to the anvil with another ring. Again and again she fashioned the form out of something formless until the end result was a blade hungry for moonlight and war.

“She who is adored by the poets, she who heals, and she who smiths bid me so that I may know what face do you wear for me tonight?”

Sakura looked up from her blade, now cold to the touch, and frowned at the figure just beyond the reach of her forge’s protective ring. The imp crouched low but threw its voice to appear elsewhere. It should have known better than to provoke her when she worked.

Returning her sword to the working table she trekked out to the edge of her forge and undid the ties around her sleeves, letting them fall free over her hands where her magic might be concealed. The imp shivered but did not retreat, not his first mistake but likely his last.

“Return to your shadows and take the fruits from your markets elsewhere. I do no welcome you to my lands. “

The imp chittered to itself in stressed glee. “Dear oh dear oh dear, oh dear, she bids me fleeeeee.”

Sakura lifted her hand and an older blade, larger and longer than any man’s arm might dare to wield hung suspended in air just beyond her fingertips. She twitched her pinky and the blade leveled horizontally, edges shining in moonlight.

The imp’s chittering cut off on a strangled gurgle of fear.

When she spoke her words were darker and calmer than well water. “Return, worm.”

It sprung from the shadows and stretched itself out on the ground, prostrate. “Exalted one! All respects to the goddess of the forge, the spring, and the healing, all respect to the triple goddess, all respect be brought to thee. We seek to humbly beg a seat at your wedding table for our master.”

Sakura’s ire wavered and then returned full force. Her fingers flexed and the blade impaled the imp through his body, cutting him neatly in half before he could regret the folly of his words. Her sword swung under the moonlight, dripping with black ichor she blew off before returning her sword to the world she kept it for.

“The nerve of some of these parasites.”

She returned to the table where her new moon sword waited for her. She sat with it and listened to the metal singing in the moonlight before etching the spell work into its blade with her enchanted tools. 

It was comforting work she was thankful for. It helped distract her from the unavoidable end of her independence. That was the price she owed for her own part in her brother’s loss with the war between invaders and gods.

The sun crested over the hill and Sakura opened her eyes, but the forge was gone. She had no more need for it as her nature was new once more. She breathed deep and the forest breathed with her. She stepped down the grass field and flowers bloomed where her feet touched the ground all the way to the river bed where the foliage positively sang for her.

“You had a hard night?” the fae from the other side of the water asked.

“An unwelcome guest stained the threshold of my forge. I detest the stink of hubris.”

Ino grinned with all the sickening charm of a Good Neighbor and laughed. “And yet you will be bound to not one but three such monsters in one more night’s time.”

Sakura set her mouth into a hard line and the world around her stilled, vegetation seemed to hold its breath around her. No new flowers bloomed when she walked along the river’s edge. “Have you come to ask for seat at my table, mind walker?”

“Don’t be so cold to your oldest friend,” Ino laughed.

Sakura didn’t join her. There was a reason she wore a silver bell around her belt.

“I am not bound by the old magics to give or deny you anything. Ask plainly and do not be deceitful, as is your nature.” Sakura steeped out onto the surface of the water cut between them. When she spoke again her voice was softer. “Speak your desire to me, Ino.”

At the sound of her name the fae queen stilled and seemed to settle. She watched Sakura plainly with eyes that had seen the beginning of the world as well as the end of it. After a moment she took a step to the edge, toes curling over the lip as came as close as she dared.

“Seat me at your table, old friend. Let me share in your day. I will not ask again.”

“It’s not in your nature to ask for anything, so I won’t deny you, even though it pains me,” Sakura sighed, relaxing. It seemed Ino wasn’t in the mood to make mischief. “You will have your seat at my table. Bring your horned king. It will be a feast for the ages.”

Ino’s shoulders relaxed and she reached out to touch the side of Sakura’s face. They were creatures of opposite natures, but in spite of that Ino and Sakura were alike enough to be friends. “Tell me of your heart, dear friend. What do you fear?”

“I fear nothing. I do what must be done.” Sakura rested her hand atop Ino’s and leaned into the touch of it. “The three faces of my nature might not be easily understood. I do not know how they will meet me.”

“They offered you three princes from their table. Might you think this shows their respect for your nature?”

“Perhaps.”

The pair lapsed into silence and followed the river to its splitting point. By the end of the day Sakura was another aspect of herself, healing the sickness from the creatures that managed to bring themselves to her sacred glade.

Before the next new morning could dawn she felt the chill of a trespassing onto the last of her temples. Any other time she might not have cared, but all her shrines had been desecrated and all her tables laid to ruin save one. It was the oldest and strongest of her temples, but it was still a crude and weathered thing hiding in the fog around an island peaking up out of a lake.

Sakura caught up the ends of her dress, the fabric wrinkling under her fingers as she turned and traversed a dozen leagues in a single step. She walked until she was at the edge of the lake where she could see a collection of boats moored on the sides. Off between the trees a couple of men in the Conqueror’s odd armor sat, eating breakfast. No one turned to see her through the veil of her magic, so she stepped out onto the waters and crossed them to her island.

A single boat big enough for four was left moored on her rocks. Foot prints in the stones and grass led away from it up to her temple.

Her last temple.

She would give up her godhood, her title, her lands, and bend her head to offer her power to these new people, but the last of her temples was a place she would end herself for. The old kings, sleeping and waiting for the end days, were hers to watch over and she was willing to pay their price with her blood.

She drew the bog’s fog up around her and the air turned thick and gray as she passed through the stones, carved and etched with her sacred words. It wasn’t enough that they stole her people from her. Must they also defile the last of her secret places?

There were three of them, one taller and older than the others with long wild hair, woven back into a thick braid down to his waist. The one behind him was slight and fair with the same dark hair, though his was tame as silk, unbraided and free over his shoulders. The last had his hair cut neatly short, though curled over the edges of a golden circlet. He was thicker in frame than the second man, but not the first. All had the eyes of the conquerors, black pools that bled red like fire with wicked magic.

‘_They can kill a god and it is not for us to die, so we will make peace with them and wait until their mortal lives expire._’

Sakura drew the fog around her tighter and pressed up against a pillar, keen to hide herself when she knew their eyes could see through her magic if they were clever enough to use it at the right time.

“This is it?” the curly haired one asked, skipping ahead to the front and then peering back over his shoulder. “It’s not a lot to look at.”

“The fog obscures vision,” the tallest and broadest of them said.

“Still not a lot to look at, I mean I know they said we left this temple untouched, but are you sure. Itachi, is this place supposed to look so... barren?”

The one with hair like silk climbed the stone steps up alongside his companion and hummed thoughtfully as he watched the last wisps of fog drift past the center of the temple. “It is the relic site. This is the oldest of her temples and likely the one in the most disrepair. Only her most devout knew about this location.”

“Until us,” the curly one chuckled.

He was smacked upside the head by their leader. “Hush, Shisui and show some respect. Or have your forgotten the reason we came here today?”

Itachi stopped and looked back, frowning at Shisui. “Madara is right, we are not here to disrespect the good lady any more than she’s already been. We came with gifts for that reason.”

The comment made Sakura relax slightly, more curious than agitated. It sounded like they didn’t know the true importance of her last shrine, or even how to get to it. The stone work above ground was only for show. Of course it looked shabby.

Shisui pouted and pulled out a bundle of brown paper that crinkled. “Where do we even leave this stuff, though?”

“Look for the icons,” said Madara.

Madara pressed on and then waved back over his shoulder as she started to take the steps down into the sunken circle at the far end were three stones with the same face carved into them. At the base of each was a small altar laid bare save for one unmoving object. One the first altar a sword, on the second a flowering tree branch, and on the last a serpent woven around a wand.

Madara was first to slide up to her altar with the sword. He knelt before it and began to remove his own offerings. Behind him Shisui walked up to the altar with the flowering branch, kneeling to unbind the brown paper. Itachi approached the last altar, more hesitantly than the other two, but he knelt and started to bring out his own offerings.

Sakura felt warm in her chest when the first small candle was lit to burn incense for her. A small dagger decorated with mother of pearl rested next to the bag of spices, candles, and bread. Madara also cut free some salted meat to leave on the bread and pair it with a simple flagon of his favorite wine.

Shisui had his own clustering of colorful flowers, bound together in pretty ribbon the same color as the candle. He laid out a letter as well, sealed with wax. His letter was already known to her the moment it touched her altar, but she would wait until later to dissect his poetry for her.

Itachi was the last to set out his offerings. He lit scented candles as well, but prepared for her a collection of spices and filled a goblet with wine. A handful of mallow blossoms cushioned the candles, and in a silk bag were a number of candies made from the blossom that mothers would use to sooth the throats of their crying sons and daughters.

Sakura realized at once who these three men were without a doubt.

The said a small prayer she could hear in her heart even if her ears didn’t. Then they left one by one. Madara finished first and gathered his extra items, carrying them off. Shisui followed soon after, but was quick to catch up with Madara and begin talking in his ear. Itachi stood last but paused to stare up at her stone face, watching it like it was made to move. The fog separated Shisui and Madara from Itachi they were so far away, but Itachi stayed a moment long before dragging his feet across the circle and them up the stairs.

Sakura emerged from behind the stones and stepped into the circle, walking until the shrines were behind her. The stones circled around a center piece she stopped on.

The fog drifted low, but when Itachi turned to look back from the top of the stairs she was sure he could see her. His eyes went wide and his mouth hung open only a fraction. It was a pretty mouth and she might have taken it for herself if he were closer.

Further back Shisui’s chattering carried. “What do you think it’ll be like, all married to the same person? Is she one body or does she have three of those? Will I have to sleep with you, Uncle?”

“Shut up before I crush your face. Kagami could still take your place.”

“Not a chance, I earned this!”

Their voices drifted, muffled and lost on the other side of the fog but Itachi stayed rooted to the top of the stairs, eyes fixed on her. She picked up a marshmallow candy and held it between her fingers. Slowly, knowing he watched her every move, she slipped the candy between her lips into her mouth and swallowed, licking the powder off her fingers without breaking eye contact with the young prince.

Itachi staggered and she pulled up the fog between them. A moment later he stumbled back down into the sunken circle, waving away the fog only to find nothing. She wore her veil of invisibility well and would never be seen if he didn’t turn around, but she couldn’t help herself. Sakura stepped up behind him and kissed the base of his neck, then melted into the fog with just enough time to miss getting caught by his spinning red eyes.

* * *

Another goblet sloshed, spilling sweet wine onto the stained table. Someone further down laughed at something said between guests and that only sparked more banter.

Madara sat at the head of his table and watched the banquet with his red eyes spinning, picking out the celestial gods and men alike who mingled over good ale and better wine. They intermingled so easily it was hard to imagine that only months earlier they had been at war. The Uchiha had suffered heavy losses, but men could be replaced, gods could not.

He heard the sound of a muted bell and turned suddenly, hoping to see her, but Sakura hadn’t approached his table yet. She was somewhere in the hall, but there were three husbands with three different tables she needed to visit at her leisure.

They had warned him she might show favor to only one of them if her dominate feature didn’t change throughout the night. He was still getting used to what that meant and wasn’t sure he exactly understood it, but he was willing to wait until it was his turn.

“She’s with Itachi. Poor sap is practically disgraced at the table,” Izuna teased at his brother’s side.

Madara growled but let his brother speak. Izuna was the only one who could get away with saying such things and keep his head on his shoulders. Madara wouldn’t tolerate anyone else speaking so casually with him.

“He is her husband as much as I am. That’s to be expected,” he forced himself to say. “And don’t taunt me just because you’re still sore Itachi won your bid.”

Izuna frowned and leaned back away from his brother. “That’s beside the point, aren’t you grumpy big brother? Want to play a game to pass the time?”

“Not at all.”

Izuna chuckled into his wine. “You’re no fun.”

“I’m _patient_.”

Izuna drank and then pushed around some food on his plate before brushing it aside to lean across the table. “Tell me, brother, what was she like when you exchanged your vows? What did you see?”

“You know what she looks like.”

“She keeps herself mostly veiled to us onlookers. I know she’s stunningly beautiful, but that’s to be expected of a goddess, isn’t it?”

Madara had seen multiple gods and goddesses and all had perfect, flawless bodies, but they weren’t _fae_, they weren’t covered in a glamor that made them impossibly beautiful. They still had human features and characteristics. Sakura was-Sakura had-

Madara reached for his wine and drank deep.

The memory of their union haunted him. Sakura was even more perfect than in any of his dreams from boyhood on. Or maybe it was just another nightmare, mocking him with its haunting details.

The night wore on and Izuna left to mingle at the other tables but Madara waited in his seat at the head of the table. It was where he was supposed to stay until she greeted him. 

There was plenty of entertainment. As the goddesses adored by poets, there was an unending stream of composers, bards, and entertainers that wished to share some of their achievements at her wedding. Some sang beautifully enough to even move Madara, but it did little to put his heart at ease as the first night of feasting drew to a close.

“It’s alright. Three husbands, three nights, that’s just how it’s going to go. Did you expect her to come to you on the first night?” Izuna asked him later as they retreated to bed.

Madara said nothing but was thankful enough that his brother didn’t say anything else about how _Itachi_ had retired much earlier to his chambers. He didn’t want to think about things that would only turn his heart in envy. They all knew they would have to share the goddess between them, and he was ready for that, but that didn’t mean some things wouldn’t annoy him. Maybe it would be better once he was visited on his own.

He took his time getting ready for bed, reading through supply reports and field updates for his troop movements into the lands unruled by clans. They waged war against the gods first, but past the civilized lands were the wilds where savage clans still needed conquering. It was fickle work the gods didn’t care for one way or the other.

He poured more drink for himself, upset by how awake he was and went to the window.

Silver in the night caught his eye. The moon was mostly swollen and nearly full, so the figure practicing in the field below was outlined in silver. Her blade was magnificent and long. When she swung her whole body moved, minimizing the window an opponent might seize for an opening.

His hand stilled, wine halfway to his lips, when he realized who practiced in the fields.

He didn’t stop to take a robe, only his own sword. Less than a minute later he was on the ground level, stalking out towards the field where his wife practiced alone among the grass and weeds.

“You do not look exhausted,” he called to her.

Sakura finished her stance, swinging the sword out wide, switching from two hands to one before locking into a new stance that faced him, expression firm and ready. She lifted a single brow and fixed her eyes on his form. His shirt was open, collar to navel, and tucked into his most comfortable riding trousers. She lifted her eyes to his face at last and Madara warmed in appreciate when he read her approval.

“Nor do you,” she finally said. Sakura swung her blade around and then let it rest at her side. “Were you terribly bothered with the feast’s lavish delights?”

“Absolutely overwhelmed.” Madara grinned and held up his own sword. “Would you mind the company?”

“To spar or dance?”

Practicing the steps alongside one could be considered a dance, but Madara’s blood was finally racing. “Let us cross blades and dance with our teeth,” he chuckled, unsheathing his blade and fixing his body into a ready stance.

She inclined her chin and grinned. “I’m not nearly your equal with the blade, please go easy on me,” she cooed.

“Not a chance, my lady.”

She laughed and then lunged.

Sparring with a goddess was exhilarating. Her domains were not war related, in fact she was a goddess more closely associated with the home and hearth, but as one of her aspects was the goddess of forge work and the craft of weapon smithing, she knew the balance of her blade well. 

Still, Madara was an Uchiha for a reason, and with his red eyes cutting through her magic, he stood found himself gaining ground on her. She was fast and strong, and most importantly she didn’t tire, but Madara was a desperate animal in comparison, and Sakura likely didn’t know what it meant to want something so bad it eclipsed the desire to live.

Their swords sang and with his strength he sent her blade swinging out of her hands, arching overhead to cut across the moon and impale itself in the grass behind her. He pushed on and managed to pin her to the grasses, blade at her pale neck.

“You didn’t make it easy for me,” he panted on a laugh.

Sakura lowered the lids of her eyes and tilted her head back, exposing more neck. “You have me at your mercy my lord. I apparently did not make it _too_ easy for you.”

Madara removed the blade, but settled his hands on either side of her face and loomed over her. His hair was wild and free of its usual braid, making a curtain around them as he moved directly over her.

“You didn’t visit my table tonight.”

“I didn’t.”

He touched the side of her face, smearing a trace of soil there. It did nothing to diminish her beauty in his eyes. He felt himself at a loss in spite of his status as the obvious winner.

“I wanted you,” he breathed, face close enough that his nose touched hers. “Did you know?”

“I knew.”

He made a sound with his lips, closing his eyes and nudging his face under her jaw. He kissed her neck where his sword had been only moments earlier and delighted when he felt her stiffen beneath him.

“You know I want you now, don’t you?”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond but slanted his lips over hers and kissed deeply, nearly falling on top of her as he felt her hands come up behind his neck to pull him down. Madara tasted his favorite wine and couldn’t help but remember his offering at her shrine.

Sakura moved under him, rising up her body to brush his and he felt the thinness of her night dress. He pulled away to trail kisses down the side of her face, neck, to her chest and hear her moan his name.

His hand found her thigh and pushed up the fabric to her hip and held the curve of her there. “You are my wife, are you not?” he asked, sane enough to hesitate for her.

“And you are my husband, are you not?” she countered.

Madara swallowed and fought down his urges for a handful of words. “And… do you want me now?”

He met her eyes and nearly lost himself at how clear and beautiful they were in the moonlight. She didn’t say anything more, but in response she reached up again and pulled him back down to kiss him thoroughly.

* * *

Shisui found her on the third day in the halls, choking the life out of something not quite human. The creature was human shaped and had fingers ending in points still dripping with her blood. Sakura turned to look back over her shoulder, completely unconcerned with the pale green-white ichor spilling from her side. It was already starting to seal up and turn back into flesh.

“And here I thought I had fallen in love with the most _docile_ of your three aspects,” Shisui joked, grinning like mad at the lifeless form held aloft.

Sakura released her hold on its throat and it crumpled to the floor and burst into dust. When she turned the train of her gown fluttered through the smoke, blooming with new flowers.

“What do you think the spring blooms feed on, my love?” she called back, knowing better than anyone else that Shisui was joking with her.

He knew exactly what sort of nature her spring aspect was. He had left her letters at her shrine, so of course she wrote him back. 

“You are terrifying,” he chuckled, color high on his cheeks.

“And you love it, so don’t pretend otherwise,” she said, as she stepped over the dust to stand before him. “What are you doing here? You should be at your table, should you not?”

Shisui’s eyes were dark in the dimly lit hallway, but they were starting to bleed with a brighter color. “Yes, I should, but I am terrible about being conventional and following rules, as you already know. It’s the third day and both my sincere but sickly cousin and even my gruff old uncle have been graced with your presence. It’s the last day and I’m jealous.”

“You should have learned how to share,” she chastised him. So close to him he realized how he was a head and a half taller than her. She had to tilt her head back to look up at him.

“I’m…” Shisui had to swallow before saying anything more. “I’m terribly dull and not very good when it comes to learning new things. Do you think perhaps you could, teach me?”

“I am better as a muse than a teacher,” she answered, rocking back on her heels and holding her elbows after crossing her arms.

Shisui stiffened when it looked like she wouldn’t advance any more. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other and laughed over a cough. “Ah, well maybe I could use a muse.”

“Maybe you could,” she chuckled, leaning back again.

She didn’t advance and made no move to take any aggressive stance with him, in spite of how he found her only moments ago. She was a terrifying woman he was excited for and yet she didn’t seem interested in him.

“Do you enjoy torturing all your lovers, or just the ones you know will suffer the most?” he sighed, smile turning sloppy.

“You seem to have a fair grasp on my nature, why don’t you tell me, husband?” she said, tilting her head to the side and smiling out of the corner of her mouth.

Her hair was partly braided, but huge curls slipped over her bare shoulders and brushed the front of her emerald green dress. It was soft and shimmered in velvet waves, caught up in a silver triangle just under her breasts.

“I am no expert on your nature, as any poet could laughingly tell you, my goddess.” He chuckled as his tone turned self depreciating. “Now I only wish to ask you honestly, if you find my union to your nature less than pleasing? If there is something I lack, please let me fix it.” 

“Do you think you are lacking?”

Shisui liked to think himself confident, but he knew he wasn’t. He knew he was a pretty lie. Out of the three of them, he had only just barely won his bid and knew that if he hadn’t thrown his hat in, Kagami or Izuna would have filled in just fine and probably done a better job of being a good husband. They at least had a purer linage to fall back on, they at least had conquests of their own to boast of. He wasn’t even sure why he had been chosen or won the bid in the first place, he was just so glad he didn’t want to question it.

“You expect much from me?” he asked, expression matching his hopeful tone.

Her lips parted then turned down in a frown as she moved close enough to reach his face and hold it with one hand. “I expect much from all my husbands, and first and foremost I expect their confidence. You are my consort, you stand at my side and will warm my bed in the night. Can you think yourself unworthy of that?” 

“Of course not,” he lied.

She applied more pressure, not enough to be painful, but enough to show him he was caught good and sure. Her free hand grabbed at his wrist and he felt himself pushed back against the stone wall of the corridor. Weeds in between the cracks began to grow, wrapping around his fingers first and then his hands and arms.

“Tell me why you doubt,” she said in a voice that left no room for argument.

“Tell me why I was chosen,” he countered, unafraid of her bindings.

She put her lips under his ear and whispered, breath hot on his skin enough to make him shiver. “_Ooh to find the pale shadow of a woman, the black Delilah, the eternal mother, the willow, and ash tree’s maker. Call her ancient queen and weep. She digs your graves with her silver spoon and buries your thankful heart._”

She bit the side of his neck and he caught his cry between his teeth, swallowing the sound as she sucked on his skin, making her mark. She pulled away enough to kiss her love bite and Shisui tried not to shiver.

“You think I could ignore the writer of such words?”

“You think that’s enough?” he breathed.

She grabbed at his throat and her fingers tilted his face down. “Don’t look down on the words of men, for they will move mountains with their pens while the sword of lesser brutes break upon the rocks. You are a knave and a fool and a little bit of a broken soul, but I married you so have some more confidence, Shisui.”

“That’s a fairly accurate summary of a bard,” he laughed, still excited and dizzy for her. “Not exactly what the Uchiha were proud to count in their ranks.”

“What you lack is not what I care for. Your family is a community of conquerors, and you have forgotten to value the arts, but that does not mean you can be ashamed of them. Your stories, your songs, your poetry…all of these things are what I adore.”

When she looked up into his eyes she saw his true nature and all the shame he hid under witty smiles and silver tongued words. Sakura dropped her hand and backed away. The weeds holding him in place went slack.

“I won’t touch you again until you fix that way of thinking.”

Shisui surged, reaching for her. “I won’t have to.” 

And because he kissed her with the fullness of his confidence she let him.

* * *

The dawn was a mess of colors, some as soft as her hair, others as brilliant as the eyes of her husbands. Sakura watched the sunrise from her window. Behind her on the bed Madara and Shisui slept far apart from each other on opposite sides. Beside Shisui Itachi slept on, taking his turn on the edge apart from her.

Each one slept off his mortal exhaustion while Sakura was left to ponder the nature of her predicament. Her belly was noticeably swollen now, and their other children were on the far side of the castle, asleep between their dogs and various guardian animals.

Sakura hummed to herself, warming her face with the new light while stroking the swell of her belly. When the curtain of invisibility dropped over the room, separating her and her guest from her sleeping husbands she didn’t react.

“You’re far too content,” the new voice said.

“You were the one who agreed I should be the sacrifice. You married me off for this very reason.”

“We didn’t expect so many children. You’re seeding the earth.”

Sakura laughed, eyes bright with mirth as she turned to face the god of skies and thunder. “I am the goddess of spring, among other things. Between three husbands four or five children shouldn’t be unusual.”

“You have no plans to stop at four or five.”

Sakura hummed, a pretty blush turning her cheeks pink. “They spoil me terribly when I’m pregnant and I do love having children of my own. You could never do that for me, after all.”

Kakashi sucked in a breath and it was a moment more before he spoke. “Even though we were not compatible, I didn’t think that mattered. These mortals will expire before the century ends. Please don’t…continue with your wild seeding. The other gods are nervous.”

“Why would they be nervous?” she laughed with a knowing look to her eyes. “Just because my children can kill you doesn’t mean they will. _I_ could kill you. You could kill me. Ability doesn’t imply motive.”

“They possess mortal hearts. They will not think as we do. Sakura, please. They’re willing to take you back. We can drive out the invaders now. Our numbers are more-”

“No.”

Kakashi went very still. “No?”

“They’re _not_ invaders, they’re my family and I love them.” Sakura smiled down at her belly and stroked it lovingly. “I’ll protect them and hide them away on my island of Avalon to live forever. When the world ends they’ll rise up along all our kings and I’ll be there.” She turned to look up at Kakashi through her lashes. “But _you _won’t be. Remember how you feel in this moment, Kakashi, for the next time you offer up your lover for an easy peace. I am the goddess of many things. Your death may very well be one of them.”

Kakashi was gone faster than lightning and the curtain of his invisibility shattered with a soundless breath. Still, somehow, Itachi stirred. He was always the most sensitive to her magic.

She watched him wake, blinking blearily up at the colored sky through the window before noticing her there on the sill. His smile was still shy after so many years, but it didn’t stop him from creeping out of bed and making a beeline for her.

“How is my goddess this morning?” he asked in a whisper.

Itachi knelt in front of her and pushed up her night dress enough so that he might kiss her belly without obstruction. Sakura bit her lip, delighted at the tickle of his kiss.

“She’s delighted, of course. And her little girl is happy too now that her father is awake.”

Itachi’s smile stretched wide across his face. “Not as happy as her father is, I’m sure. We could use a girl after so many boys.”

He kissed her belly again and whispered ‘good morning little one’ into her skin. Sakura felt a kick and looked up to see Itachi’s delighted expression. It warmed her heart more than anything else ever had in all the years of her long life.

“Itachi,” she whispered his name.

When he looked up he frowned at the tears on her face. “Why do you cry, my love?”

“I’m so happy I’m with you,” she laughed through her whisper. She reached for him and kissed his hair, tears falling anew. “Thank you for saving me.”

He chuckled and kissed her back. “I’m not sure what I saved you from, but I’m happy to bring you joy.”

“Forever and ever?” she sighed.

“Forever and ever,” he promised. 

**Author's Note:**

> Arranged Marriage SakuraUchiha gift for @beyondthemoor because she’s amazing and deserves this. Hope you enjoy friend! Sorry for the rush edits and typos I’m sure I missed along the way.


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